raisedbymoogles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raisedbymoogles) wrote2020-07-06 11:23 pm
raisedbymoogles) wrote2020-07-06 11:23 pm
Ficbit: The Nibelheim Incident goes a little frosty.
The idea popped into my head and I couldn't not play with it.
*
“I’ve thought of a wonderful idea. Let’s go to the Promised Land.”
Enraptured as he was, Sephiroth didn’t notice the air getting colder. It sparkled around him, ambient humidity coalescing into glittering crystals. His eager breath plumed in the air, clouding the face of his Mother but only for a moment. The glass cleared again, showing him a face like his, a history like his, trapped and wronged by humans-
”Sephiroth!”
“…here they come again, Mother.” Sephiroth turned slowly, half in a dream, to face a human in the blue uniform of Public Safety, his hands spread open - empty. “Ha,” Sephiroth says, the attempt at a laugh falling unnaturally from his mouth. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
“Sephiroth - my mom - my town-” The human took an unsteady step forward, and Sephiroth did the same, bringing left side, sword side into play. “Give them back-”
His town…? This is…
But the thought was swept away before it could reach its conclusion. The identity of the boy in the blue uniform remained unknown and unimportant. “Their destiny is to precede me into the Lifestream,” he said. “But if you miss them, I will send you to join them.”
The boy drew a harsh breath, cracking with (grief, rage) weakness, but when he spoke again, his voice had changed: “Crisis,” he said, his voice frosted at the edges, echoing with an overlay of something ancient, powerful, not human. The cold abruptly became too intense to ignore. “Thou wouldst have done well to stay buried.”
Sephiroth had just enough time to wonder are you like me, Cl- before Jenova screamed in his head. Her recognition/panic/RAGE spurred him into a reckless charge, sword lashing through frozen air in a silver arc-
Inches from the boy’s face, Masamune stopped as if striking a wall, singing a discordant chime. The boy gazed calmly at him, and his eyes were silvered over, pupils barely visible.
The air filled with ice. Sephiroth leaped back, running for the tube - he would protect Mother, shield her with his own body!- as frost curled in his hair, crept across the glass. The silver-eyed boy lifted a hand, gathering cold white light.
The last Sephiroth saw before ice encased both him and his Mother was the image of a woman, violet-skinned and virtually unclothed, her high ponytail dancing in an unseen wind. The boy’s name still escaped him, but Mother let him have the knowledge of the ancient goddess.
Shiva.
*
Cloud folded to his hands and knees, gasping for breath that went down sharp as a knife from the cold.
He understood now. He remembered. He understood the why of who he was, what he was - but he would trade the knowledge in a heartbeat for this to never have happened. Mom…! Everyone-!
…Zack. Tifa.
They wouldn’t die before he could get them aid. He’d made sure of that, with his new (…newly remembered?) power, but he couldn’t leave them in that frozen stasis any longer than he could help. He staggered to his feet, tremors of aching weariness threatening his balance until he took a few steps back the way he came and leaned on a wall for support. It had been hundreds of years since he’d last taken on a human form, and the power he’d channeled to seal the Crisis had taken its toll on his body. Even now he didn’t know how long his seal would hold. Not two thousand years again. Months? Weeks?
Focus, Cloud. There’s nothing you can do about the seal now. There are others who need your help.
Zack and Tifa lay where he’d left them, frosted over with his power, unmoving and unaware. Cloud lifted a hand and they floated into the air before him: they were ice for now, and ice obeyed his whims. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to them both. “If I’d remembered a little sooner… I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything once you’re better.”
He exited the reactor, Zack and Tifa towed behind him on invisible threads. Overhead, a helicopter circled, struggling to stay aloft in the sudden cold front.
*
“I’ve thought of a wonderful idea. Let’s go to the Promised Land.”
Enraptured as he was, Sephiroth didn’t notice the air getting colder. It sparkled around him, ambient humidity coalescing into glittering crystals. His eager breath plumed in the air, clouding the face of his Mother but only for a moment. The glass cleared again, showing him a face like his, a history like his, trapped and wronged by humans-
”Sephiroth!”
“…here they come again, Mother.” Sephiroth turned slowly, half in a dream, to face a human in the blue uniform of Public Safety, his hands spread open - empty. “Ha,” Sephiroth says, the attempt at a laugh falling unnaturally from his mouth. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
“Sephiroth - my mom - my town-” The human took an unsteady step forward, and Sephiroth did the same, bringing left side, sword side into play. “Give them back-”
His town…? This is…
But the thought was swept away before it could reach its conclusion. The identity of the boy in the blue uniform remained unknown and unimportant. “Their destiny is to precede me into the Lifestream,” he said. “But if you miss them, I will send you to join them.”
The boy drew a harsh breath, cracking with (grief, rage) weakness, but when he spoke again, his voice had changed: “Crisis,” he said, his voice frosted at the edges, echoing with an overlay of something ancient, powerful, not human. The cold abruptly became too intense to ignore. “Thou wouldst have done well to stay buried.”
Sephiroth had just enough time to wonder are you like me, Cl- before Jenova screamed in his head. Her recognition/panic/RAGE spurred him into a reckless charge, sword lashing through frozen air in a silver arc-
Inches from the boy’s face, Masamune stopped as if striking a wall, singing a discordant chime. The boy gazed calmly at him, and his eyes were silvered over, pupils barely visible.
The air filled with ice. Sephiroth leaped back, running for the tube - he would protect Mother, shield her with his own body!- as frost curled in his hair, crept across the glass. The silver-eyed boy lifted a hand, gathering cold white light.
The last Sephiroth saw before ice encased both him and his Mother was the image of a woman, violet-skinned and virtually unclothed, her high ponytail dancing in an unseen wind. The boy’s name still escaped him, but Mother let him have the knowledge of the ancient goddess.
Shiva.
*
Cloud folded to his hands and knees, gasping for breath that went down sharp as a knife from the cold.
He understood now. He remembered. He understood the why of who he was, what he was - but he would trade the knowledge in a heartbeat for this to never have happened. Mom…! Everyone-!
…Zack. Tifa.
They wouldn’t die before he could get them aid. He’d made sure of that, with his new (…newly remembered?) power, but he couldn’t leave them in that frozen stasis any longer than he could help. He staggered to his feet, tremors of aching weariness threatening his balance until he took a few steps back the way he came and leaned on a wall for support. It had been hundreds of years since he’d last taken on a human form, and the power he’d channeled to seal the Crisis had taken its toll on his body. Even now he didn’t know how long his seal would hold. Not two thousand years again. Months? Weeks?
Focus, Cloud. There’s nothing you can do about the seal now. There are others who need your help.
Zack and Tifa lay where he’d left them, frosted over with his power, unmoving and unaware. Cloud lifted a hand and they floated into the air before him: they were ice for now, and ice obeyed his whims. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to them both. “If I’d remembered a little sooner… I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything once you’re better.”
He exited the reactor, Zack and Tifa towed behind him on invisible threads. Overhead, a helicopter circled, struggling to stay aloft in the sudden cold front.